“What up, nigga?”
“Yo.”
He reached down and lifted a beer in the air.
“You want one?”
“Nah, I’m cool.”
“Come on, Slim. You know I got that text too, and I always wanted to share a beer with my son.”
“I’m not really a beer drinker.”
“That’s alright. Have one with me today. How many times can you say that you had a drink with your pops?”
He laughed and then sat back down on the porch, grabbing his phone.
I said fuck it to myself because I felt good for other reasons today, then walked up, grabbing the beer, before sitting down next to him. I cracked it open, took a sip, and this shit was nasty at first, but after a few more sips, it wasn’t as bad.
“So, what have you been on today, Slim?”
“Not much, just spending time with my daughter.”
“Oh yeah? She is precious. Your mama showed me a picture of her. I can’t believe I went from having no kids to having a grandkid this quick.”
“That’s how quickly life goes sometimes. I went from no kids to two in a day.”
I took another sip.
“Well, Crew, you know getting those test results earlier did something to me. It made me feel complete. I always thought something was wrong with me. Thought I couldn’t make kids like my brother, Papi. Even though he only made one, well, one that he claimed.”
“Oh, so you knew about the other one?”
“Yeah, and that’s why I didn’t understand him sometimes. He seemed obsessed with being a father. Just to a certain child, though.”
He shook his head.
“But you know what, watching Papi raise Hov, I always felt like if I ever had kids, I wouldn’t be as obsessed with fatherhood as he was.”
“What do you mean?”
“Papi’s ass would lay his life down before his son ever took accountability for his mistakes. I have never believed in that method of parenting, though, to be honest. Your mistakesare your mistakes once you are a teenager. You are no longer a helpless child.”
“So, you're saying that if your kid made a mistake, you would leave them out to dry?”
“Not out to dry exactly, but I don’t believe in carrying weight that isn't mine. That’s the only way to teach a child these days.”
“Nah, I have to agree to disagree. If my child fucks up, that’s on me too. I raised them, so that means I should’ve taught them better and I must’ve missed the mark on something.”
“Yeah, true, but that would be the difference between you and me. You raising yours from birth and I didn’t get the chance to raise you. The only blame I can take is giving you those genetics of a killer. You crazy just like your father.”
He smirked.
“But if I were around, I would’ve tried harder to make sure you weren’t like me. Being like me ain’t no good. They call you the Slim Reaper, and back then, they called me a snake.”
I didn’t respond, I simply stared out at the street, beer in my hand, trying to ignore that feeling that was forming in the pit of my stomach. Gio was talking crazy as hell, but maybe it was because of the beers and pills I’m sure he’s taking, getting mixed up.
“You know, son, my mama always tried to warn me about snakes, never knowing her own son was a fuckin snake himself.”
